


Childish

by orphan_account



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:09:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Jack's childishness hurts David. Especially when he's drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Childish

_Jack Kelly is a child._

David finds himself thinking it at least once a day. Something in the way he talks just reminds him of Les.

He brags like a little boy showing off a lost tooth, tells stories with gestures that involve his entire body, and exaggerates more than a carnival barker.

And he can never sit still. He’s always fidgeting, or bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, or climbing up whatever structure happens to be nearby.

Sometimes it’s endearing, other times it’s irritating, but there are moments when it just makes David sad

The way Jack flinches at the sound of raised voices makes David wonder about his father and about the Refuge. And surviving on his own couldn’t have been much easier, judging from the way he hates asking for help and downright refuses to admit when he’s been hurt.

Sometimes Jack’s childishness hurts David

Especially when he’s drunk.

~~~

David hears Jack before he sees him; knows without even looking at him that he’s already trashed.

Jack’s face lights up when he sees him, and David tries to ignore the way his heart lurches in his chest as Jack pulls him down next to him and slings an arm around his shoulders.

“ _That’s_ my Davey,” he laughs, ruffling David’s hair. “Always right on time.”

"I’m not _your_ anything,” David grumbles.

And he regrets it immediately when Jack’s face falls, and the fingers threading through his hair are withdrawn. Jack’s now-folded hands drop into his lap like those of a schoolboy who’s just been scolded.

The ever-perceptive Racetrack chooses that moment to butt into the conversation, speaking around the cigar he holds clenched in his teeth. “That’s right, Cowboy,” he says, setting down his unlit cigar to take a drink of whatever-it-was Snoddy’d just left unattended. “He ain’t here ‘cause he owes it to you. You’re here ‘cause you love us. Right, Mouthpiece?” He shoots David a winning smile.

"God help me," David replies, grinning fondly.

And then Jack’s arm is around his waist, and Race has vanished to go pick on Itey.

David leans into his selling partner, rationalizing that it’s a chilly night and Jack is very, very warm. And smells nice. Like cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol and newspaper ink and just Jack.

And Jack leans back into David, plopping his chin down on the other boy’s shoulder and launching into a story David is certain he just made up on the spot.

"Not Spot, David, _Bumlets_. It was me an’ _Bumlets_ ,” he protests when David voices this opinion.

"Bumlets, right. Sorry for interrupting," David says, rolling his eyes.

Jack continues talking, but David stops listening as soon as he becomes aware of Jack’s thumb tracing lazy circles against his side.

~~~

Normally, Jack is the one to walk _David_ home at the end of the day. But Jack, despite his Irish heritage, is so staggeringly drunk he can hardly stand on his own.

Unsurprisingly, he protests the entire way to the Lodging House. But he doesn’t push away the support David gives him, and never once once removes his arm from its position around David’s waist.

David manages to get him to the House and up the stairs without too much incident, and is thankful to discover that no one else seems to have made it back yet. The amount of noise Jack made coming up the stairs would have disturbed even the heaviest sleepers.

"Good-night, Jackie," David says fondly.

He turns to leave, but Jack’s arm is still wrapped around his waist. And instead of releasing him, Jack pulls him into a hug.

He murmurs something into David’s hair, but the only thing he catches is his name. Before David can ask him to repeat himself, Jack presses a kiss to the side of his face, releases him, and stumbles away to his bunk.

~~~

Jack has always been the more childishly hopeful of the two, despite his rough past. David has never been one for optimism.

Which is why he’s so certain that things will go right back to normal tomorrow morning. Jack will come by their apartment, exchange quick hellos with everyone, and then head straight for Sarah. He’ll look at her like they’re the only two people in the room, and laugh at her teasing remarks with that full-bodied laugh David usually loves hearing.

And David will duck into the empty bedroom and cry bitter, childish tears.


End file.
